TREPIDATION // h.s

CHAPTER 3 //

Harry Styles

"What the fuck do you mean you need it now?" I shout into the phone to the only man I've ever wanted to kill. Not that I would go through with it, but I would be lying if I said the thought hasn't crossed my mind.

"Styles you fucked up, they're angry and you're broke, not a good combination buddy ." He says in the smuggest voice I've ever heard. He is relishing me being in shit, but I'd feel the exact same way if it was him and not me.

"I have the money you fucking idiot, but not 5 million dollars laying around."

"Okay, okay, just calm down, H..." he reasons. "How about 500k now just to keep them down a while, and when you get the rest you can pay them?"

I consider all my options on how to handle this situation without getting killed. I don't really have any other option than to let him help me right now. And the fact that I need him pisses me off so much.

Just as my lips part to speak, my bathroom door swings open.

A pair of curious green eyes stare right at me, I can visibly see her pupils dilate.

Those vibrant green eyes examine my body slowly, her eyebrows twitching slightly upward when she locates the tattoos scattering my arms.

I return the favor, staring her down. She has long blonde hair nearing her waist, still wet from the shower, I suppose she just took.

I struggle to look away from her face though. She's beautiful.

That's not a word I use very often, but she definitely deserves it.

There is just something so incredibly alluring and prepossessing about her. I feel like I have some type of inordinate attraction to her that I don't quite understand.

But honestly right now is not a good time.

"The fuck are you doing," I ask, furrowing my brows. I can't help but get annoyed, it's not necessarily her, but just this whole situation, plus I have no idea who she is.

Her shoulders tense from my words and she freezes in place, looking a little startled.

"Get out !" I point at the door, hoping she gets the message. I have more important things to deal with right now than some hot girl.

She obeys my order and with that, she slams the door behind her.

The only explanation for this girl in my bathroom could be that she banged James. Fucking hell though, she has to be like 20 years younger than him. I didn't think he had it in him. She's probably just another bloodsucker.

"Hello?" The voice next to my ear yells in an irritated tone.

"Listen, can you just hold them off for a little longer. I need more time." I return back to the phone call.

"Styles just ask James to help you out, didn't he mention something about a deal he can make with you ." He suggests.

"Yeah, but the fucking bitch hasn't really been available recently, I'll try to talk to him." I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhausted from all this shit.

"Okay then, passe une merveilleuse journée ma chérie." The words roll of his tounge in a complacent tone.

"Shut the fuck up Zayn." I pull the phone away from my ear and I end the call.

What did I do to have to put up with this?

Delilah Allen

I basically sprinted back into my room, and immediately locked the bathroom door.